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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23126560">Go On and Hold Her Till the Screaming Is Gone</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/FrenchTwistResistance/pseuds/FrenchTwistResistance'>FrenchTwistResistance</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>I’ve Always Been Crazy But It’s Kept Me from Going Insane [16]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Chilling Adventures of Sabrina (TV 2018)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>F/F, I just want caos to be a sitcom where hot middle-aged ladies kiss</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-03-13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-03-13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 01:08:14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,515</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23126560</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/FrenchTwistResistance/pseuds/FrenchTwistResistance</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Mary and Lilith are separate entities. But Hilda’s still pretty confused.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Hilda Spellman/Mary Wardwell | Madam Satan | Lilith, Hilda Spellman/Original Mary Wardwell</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>I’ve Always Been Crazy But It’s Kept Me from Going Insane [16]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1597594</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>10</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Go On and Hold Her Till the Screaming Is Gone</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>A lazy Sunday afternoon at Spellman Mortuary.</p><p>They’ve all changed out of their black mass clothes, and as they’re cleaning up the remains of the lunch they’ve just shared, they’re debating whether they want to do something together as a family this evening or to just do whatever. They’ve all been so busy lately, and each agrees that if they can come up with something chill and fun enough they’re amenable to a group activity, but if nothing appropriate surfaces, they’re equally happy just resting separately. Ambrose kind of wants to tour the new zoo exhibit, and Sabrina kind of wants to do karaoke, and Zelda kind of wants to go for ice cream, and Hilda kind of wants to drive around looking at real estate. None of them are terribly committed.</p><p>The doorbell chimes.</p><p>They usually nose goes, but they’re all so apathetic that Sabrina finally agrees to take one for the team.</p><p>There’s a squeak of surprise in the hallway and then hushed, rushed voices.</p><p>Hilda feels a tinge of dread and suspicion at the base of her skull and tunes in to the conversation:</p><p>“Is there an emergency?” Sabrina says in a worried whisper.</p><p>“No, there’s not— I— I’m sorry to intrude—” a familiar female voice says, low and skittering.</p><p>“Well? What is it?”</p><p>There’s a pause, and the woman’s voice says,</p><p>“Is your aunt home? Your Aunt Hilda, that is?” </p><p>Oh no. That’s Mary Wardwell’s voice, and Hilda is too far away to determine whether the timbre of it denotes Mary Wardwell herself or Lilith.</p><p>Sabrina laughs, says,</p><p>“Should I just show you straight to the solarium, then?!”</p><p>Another pause, and then Mary says,</p><p>“I suppose if that’s where she is…?”</p><p>Another pause, and Sabrina’s voice is less abrasive as she says,</p><p>“Oh! Oh… um… excuse my manners. Little on edge today.”</p><p>“Oh. Sorry. Um. May I—”</p><p>“Of course. Please come in.”</p><p>Hilda plunges her hands into the soapy water where she’s scrubbing a pan and pretends not to have been supernaturally listening.</p><p>Sabrina and Mary walk into the kitchen.</p><p>Zelda and Ambrose exchange a look and try to extend it to Hilda, as well, but she’s busy overly concentrating on what she’s arbitrarily occupied herself with.</p><p>“Miss Wardwell’s come to visit Auntie Hilda,” Sabrina says.</p><p>Hilda does look up then, just in time to see Zelda and Ambrose raising their respective eyebrows and Zelda’s crossing the kitchen to shake Mary’s free hand. Mary’s occupied hand is holding a small bouquet of yellow roses and baby’s breath. Zelda’s saying,</p><p>“Hello, Miss Wardwell. I hope you don’t think me rude, but I was just about to retire to my study to do a little reading.” She cuts her eyes at Ambrose, who says,</p><p>“And I’m not sure if you remember me. I’m the reprobate cousin, and I was just leaving, as well.”</p><p>Sabrina looks at everyone in turn, says,</p><p>“And I have plenty of homework.”</p><p>They all exit, leaving Mary alone in the middle of the kitchen with her flowers and Hilda halfway hiding at the sink.</p><p>Mary’s blinking rapidly and standing motionless as a doe in a clearing near a highway before it suddenly decides to bound toward oncoming traffic.</p><p>Hilda is reasonably certain that this is Mary Wardwell for real, not Lilith acting coy, but she’s got to be sure since she has very little idea what business Mary might have with her. Sure, there had been that weird incident at the matinee, but she’d considered the matter closed when Mary had seemed to realize what she’d said, gotten immediately incredibly embarrassed, and hustled away.</p><p>“You’re not here for the typewriter, are you?” Hilda says as casually as she can manage.</p><p>Mary’s eyes widen. She says,</p><p>“No…?”</p><p>It would be an easy enough response for Lilith to fake, but there’d be no reason for her to, considering they’re alone and Lilith has limited time in this realm, especially if she hasn’t been summoned. If this were Lilith she’d at the very least have already traded some innuendo and probably already had her hand up Hilda’s skirt.</p><p>Hilda dries her hands on a dish towel, rounds the counter, says,</p><p>“Sorry. Thought you might be here in response to the craigslist post.” It isn’t a whole lie. She and Lilith had already crafted a listing for their nearly finished project. “But I'm being a bad hostess. So nice to see you. Can I get you anything?”</p><p>They’re a yard or so apart, staring at each other. Mary says,</p><p>“Oh no no. I understand. Thank you for welcoming me into your home.” Mary limply thrusts the bouquet toward Hilda, says, “I’ve brought these for you. Yellow roses. Symbol of friendship.”</p><p>Hilda has received more flowers in the past several months than she has in her whole life. She takes them from Mary’s trembling hand, says,</p><p>“Thank you so much. Very thoughtful.” </p><p>She’s bent over, looking in the lower cabinets for a vase, and Mary’s saying very quickly,</p><p>“I wanted to apologize for what I said to you yesterday.”</p><p>Hilda pops up and looks at Mary’s downcast face. At the scrutiny, Mary winces, and she says,</p><p>“It was completely inappropriate. I don’t know what came over me.”</p><p>“It must’ve been quite the shock to unexpectedly see someone who looked so much like you. There’s no need to apologize.”</p><p>Hilda runs a tepid tap into the vase she’s chosen. Mary says,</p><p>“I know they say we’ve all got a twin somewhere. But to be honest…”</p><p>Hilda cuts an inch off the stems and deposits the flowers. But as she’s going about these motions, she’s perceiving that Mary’s misgivings aren’t just about her doppelgänger. She says,</p><p>“What is it, Miss Wardwell?”</p><p>“I—” Mary starts and then huffs, “I haven’t been feeling much like myself lately.”</p><p>“Oh?” Hilda says. “Do you want to talk about it?”</p><p>They lock eyes across the kitchen island. Mary shakes her head, says, </p><p>“I didn't come here to give confession.” </p><p>Hilda takes a chance, says,</p><p>“Could’ve fooled me.”</p><p>“And even if I had, how might you absolve me, Miss Spellman?”</p><p>“Depends. You haven’t told me your sins yet.”</p><p>Mary’s eyes flash—maybe anger or maybe desire or maybe confusion and contempt. She says,</p><p>“I think I’ll do my penance elsewhere.” She spins on her heel, starts back toward the door.</p><p>xxx</p><p>Lilith and Hilda are making out in the squash patch in the solarium.</p><p>Hilda’s snaked a hand beneath Lilith’s blouse and is working the clasp of her bra as she writhes on top of her, manipulates their bodies into an increasingly frantic rhythm, glides her tongue against Lilith’s tongue and teeth and tongue again.</p><p>Lilith clutches at Hilda’s hips, digs her nails in, matches Hilda’s urgency, slips a hand around and under fabric and up a goosebumped thigh. Lilith’s fingertips meet completely soaked cotton, and she stops. She stops the trajectory of her fingers and the motion of her hips and the ardency of her tongue. She’s completely still beneath Hilda’s grasping limbs and arching hips. And Hilda realizes and stops, too.</p><p>They pant at each other a moment, and Lilith says,</p><p>“You’re positively wanton. What’s got you so worked up?”</p><p>“I don’t know what you mean, love,” Hilda says even as she feels guilt and shame wash over her. She justifies to herself that it’s confusing that this body she’s straddling should belong to two different, differently sexy women.</p><p>“Well let me remind you: you summoned me and with no preface whatsoever pounced on me,” Lilith says.</p><p>“Sometimes a woman has needs,” Hilda says.</p><p>Lilith laughs, says,</p><p>“And those needs usually have a precipitating factor. I’ve never once, however hard I’ve tried, gotten you this excited. So what gives, babe? Did Zelda model some new lingerie?” </p><p>Hilda gasps, pinches the sensitive skin of one of Lilith’s triceps, says,</p><p>“You’re horrible! It’s nothing like that!”</p><p>“So what is it like, then?”</p><p>“I just wanted you, is all,” Hilda says. It’s almost true. </p><p>She’d wanted Mary Wardwell, awkward and uncomfortable and repentant. Miss Wardwell wouldn’t have had any reason to be any of those adjectives if Lilith hadn’t used her body for her own purposes. And Hilda would never have looked at that body the way she had if Lilith had never seduced her. It’s a bad argument, but Hilda’s brain has decided on it and is sticking to it.</p><p>Lilith’s fingers flutter against her and then are purposefully stroking. Hilda groans. Lilith says,</p><p>“You wanted me that much?”</p><p>“I still do,” Hilda says. And it’s even more close to true. The idea of Mary might have made her wet, but she knows Lilith’s the one who will follow through. </p><p>Lilith’s fingers are frenzied now—up and down and side to side and circling, circling.</p><p>Lilith cranes her neck to kiss Hilda, and as Hilda’s tongue slips into Lilith’s hot, hot mouth, Lilith’s hot, hot fingers move aside the strip of fabric at Hilda’s center and make contact—skin on skin. Well, the projection of skin on real skin. </p><p>“Tell me what you want,” Lilith says. “Tell me I’m the only one.”</p>
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